


Sixth Sense

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Police, Autopsies, Blood and Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Magic, Loss of Control, M/M, Magic, Media Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revolution, lots of death, none of the boys :), sort of a mystery, there are original characters for plot purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23943082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Amidst the investigation of a bizarre series of magic-related deaths, Junhui meets Wonwoo.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 22
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> WOW okay hello i have not written anything in so long !! so here's my comeback with a magic police mystery wonhui that absolutely no one asked for except me! the mature rating for this one is because there will indeed be death and violence and i prefer to rate this mature to be on the safe side. if i need to update any tags or you would like me to include specific trigger warnings please let me know because i am more than happy to oblige.  
> love all of you and hope you enjoy !

This has got to be the worst first day on the job for Seokmin ever, Junhui thinks, barely stopping himself from swearing as he manages to swerve the car off the road just in time to avoid the explosion of fire and chunks of asphalt that rains behind them. 

His foot is pressing into the gas pedal so hard he thinks he might just snap his ankle off, eyes darting to the rearview mirror as the cruiser valiantly struggles forward, not nearly fast enough to evade the increasingly threatening mass that swells in the reflection. This time, Junhui really does swear, glad that Seokmin probably can’t hear him over the ringing in his ears. 

He doesn’t have very many options here. He can’t keep driving and risk the car getting blown to dust, but he also can’t exactly stop driving and risk the car getting blown to dust. It’s a lose-lose situation. 

“Seokmin!” He shouts over the cacophony around them, glad that the younger at least seems to realize that he’s being spoken to. “I’m going to jump out of the car!”

It takes almost two seconds for Seokmin to understand, eyes widening in horror. Junhui wants to tell him that he’ll be fine, he’s a professional after all, but every moment he stays in the car endangers the other’s life. If he wants to fight the man chasing them, he needs Seokmin as far out of harm's way as possible. 

So just like that, he’s ripping off his seatbelt and forcing himself sideways through the window, trying to ignore the pain that ripples throughout his shoulder as it collides with the glass. His original intention had been to shatter the glass before he jumped through but he had been too caught up in charming his shoe into sticking to the gas pedal to remember. It’ll bruise, but the farther the car gets into the woods, the better.

He barely manages to avoid flubbing the landing, rolling through an unpleasantly compact bush and stumbling to his feet with all the dignity he can muster, which is not a lot considering he only has one shoe on and can feel the leaves and twigs sticking out of his hair. He’s definitely had better days, that’s for sure.

As if jealous at being ignored, the mass of magical energy surges forward, unwilling to give him even a moment to mourn his sullied Gudetama sock. The pure heat of it blasts Junhui in the face full force, almost making him stumble as he throws up a hand to block his eyes from the flying chunks of asphalt and other unidentifiable debris that is still being whirled around the edges of the mass. It’s palpably sweltering, momentarily sending him reeling to gather his wits. He would very much prefer that it went away and left him alone right this instant but at the very least he can be grateful that it’s stopped trying to blow him up.

It’s the little things in life. 

The only real way to deal with it, he decides, is to reach the man at the center. Of course, he _could_ use his magic to slowly chip away at its edges, but magic generally has to be cut from the source. Just like a weed, if you don’t manage to get the roots when you pull it, it’ll come right back, granted that the source has enough energy to maintain it. Stalling for time sometimes can be a viable solution but in this case, Junhui has a hunch that it’s not going to work. 

Junhui had first sensed the man back in the city when he was buying Seokmin a commemorative coffee in the drive-up line to celebrate their first day working together. Seokmin had been bouncing off the walls and Junhui had been pleasantly amused, secretly planning the hundreds of pranks that he could pull on his partner over the next few weeks. Then Junhui had felt it. He remembers being shell shocked by the sheer intensity of the man’s terror. It had felt as if he’d been hit by a truck, puffs of air escaping his lungs as the foulness of the aura around the man seeped into his consciousness. The man had been many yards away, walking out of a nearby ice cream shop, and the potency of it had still been incredible. 

Junhui has never encountered magic quite like this before, ravenous magic that howls and rages, desperate to taste, to chew, to devour. 

He should have made Seokmin get out of the car as soon as he had noticed the man, but the instant he had looked back, the man’s eyes were already locked on his, desperate and unfocused. The magic had already begun to take control of him, an unforgiving, impatient puppeteer. There was no time, and as much as Junhui currently regrets getting Seokmin involved in this on his first day at the station, at least the rookie has a chance at defending himself. The non-magical citizens crowding the shopping area wouldn’t have had that same opportunity. Junhui’s lucky they managed to lure the man out of the city before he completely lost it.

Holding his breath, Junhui pushes forward through the curtain of energy, ignoring the way the magic claws at his jacket, ripping it back and forth and snarling against his skin to be let inside. It’s insatiable, snatching the twigs from his hair and hurling them back into the abyss of swirling energy that rushes around them like a hurricane. Junhui’s truly never seen a case like this, where the magic has so completely taken over that it’s almost become its own entity. It’s all revolting, the scent, the sight, the feel, and even the taste of it when he finally allows himself a shallow inhale. He needs to find the center of it quickly, before it grows any bigger.

“Hey!” Junhui shouts fruitlessly, the word ripped away from his lips and lost to the raging wind the second it tries to escape his mouth. He grimaces. So much for that. Forcing his way forward, he lights his arms with his own green flames to combat the mass that threatens to suffocate him should he let his guard down. They’re a relatively low-energy cast, a protective spell that will keep the bite of the magic off of his skin. Unfortunately, even with the small barrier they provide, it still feels as if he’s trying to run along the bottom of a pool; every single movement he makes is met with a staggering amount of resistance. 

It’s dark in here, too dark, but Junhui can still sense the man’s aura faintly, agonized and frightened. It’s all he has to go off of, blindly groping through the fabric of the ferocious magic toward the hint. The storm clearly doesn’t like the path he’s on, increasing the intensity of its battering despite the fact that it’s no longer affecting him. If a less experienced man were to be caught up in this storm, he would likely be shredded to bits instantly. The wards that cover Junhui’s clothing are already going into overdrive in a way they rarely do, a clear indication that this is bad news.  
  
Junhui can only hope that the storm is distracted enough by trying to wear him down that it will ignore Seokmin, wherever the cruiser might have taken the younger. As powerful as it seems to be, it shouldn’t have enough energy to toss out explosions and simultaneously fight with a threat as significant as Junhui that has already breached its defenses.  
  
Limbs impossibly heavy, Junhui once more senses a small burst of fright close in front of him. There. That has to be it. He kicks his shoeless foot forward, finally breaking into what’s more or less the eye of the storm. The intensified gravity releases its hold on him and the wind, while still loud, is no longer so unbearable that Junhui cannot hear anything over it.

Right before him, terrified out of his mind, is the man who created this monstrosity. 

“Stay away from me!” The man yells, nearly hysterical, his bloodshot eyes flicking back and forth as if Junhui isn’t the only thing in front of him. Placatingly, Junhui holds up his hands. Careful not to make any sudden movements, he extinguishes all the traces of active magic from his body as a sign of peace. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Junhui says gently, eyes honest as he makes no move to approach the man further. “I’m here to help. My name is Junhui.”

The man’s breaths are ragged, nails digging into the palms of his hands as he faces Junhui down. “I don’t believe you,” he stammers. “I don’t believe you. You’re going to kill me.”

“I promise you,” Junhui murmurs, careful. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want to get both of us out of here safely but I’ll need your help to do that.” 

The man falters, visibly shaking. “You promise?”

Junhui nods, holding out a hand. The man doesn’t move to take it yet. 

“But I could have killed you. I could have hurt people. I blew up the road. I-”

“I don’t believe that was your intention,” Junhui placates, leaving his hand out between them as another peace offering. “There’s clearly something very wrong with your magic. We’ll figure out what that is once we’ve gotten you to safety, alright?”

Slowly, so slowly that Junhui doesn’t realize he’s moving at first, the man reaches out and takes his hand. A smile spreads across Junhui’s lips and he squeezes reassuringly. In the worst-case scenario, he could use his own magic to stifle the man’s, but that would only be unpleasant and draining for both of them, not to mention very risky considering the unknown nature of this particular strain. Cooperation is the best option, and really the only other one besides killing the man, which Junhui would never do. “Thank you for trusting me,” he says kindly. “How much experience do you have with magic?

“I’ve… done a few things. The dishes, sweeping the floor. Nothing like this before. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“Okay,” Junhui reassures, trying to prevent the man from panicking again. There are many things he wants to ask but the most important thing in the moment is to get rid of the energy storm. “That’s good. Do you understand how you’re producing it right now?”

“...I think so. It’s coming from my heart, right?”

“That’s right. Can you do something for me? I need you to think of a pair of scissors, any size you want. If you close your eyes and focus really hard, you can feel the magic. lt feels kind of like ribbons, right? Little ribbons of energy. Try to visualize them. I want you to cut them.”

It’s a very elementary trick, one that’s taught to almost everyone when they first discover their powers. Junhui hasn’t used it in years, but for someone who has completely lost control of their magic, it’s the best thing to try first. 

He holds his breath, waiting patiently, and then the swirling “wall” that surrounds their position begins to crack, ever so slightly.

Junhui can’t help but smile, watching as the cracks spread, the storm clearly thinning around them. It’s working. If the man can’t completely stifle his magic, Junhui can handle the clean-up, but this makes things easier for both of them. The storm is dissipating very quickly. Almost too easily, considering the trouble that it has caused up to this point. 

And just like that, as if Junhui had jinxed them with the thought alone, the man screams in agony, snatching his hand away from Junhui’s and falling backward. His hands then fly up to cover his mouth as he retches dryly.

They come away covered in blood. Both of them stare at them in horror and Junhui can only gape, not believing the sight before his eyes.

“I’m-” The man chokes out, and then the cloud thins out more and he screams, throwing himself violently against the ground in agony. It’s killing him, Junhui realizes, hands frantic to do something, anything. It's killing him. But how? It shouldn’t be possible. As far as he knows, severing magic has never even had a negative effect on anyone. It certainly hasn’t killed anybody. Something is obviously very, very wrong. 

Junhui falls to his side, clutching at the man’s chest helplessly and fruitlessly casting his strongest healing magic. It appears to have no effect. The man is gurgling, waving at him frantically, eyes bugged out and wild. He’s trying to tell him something, Junhui realizes, and when he glances up he understands exactly what that is.

The storm is unraveling by itself. It’s as if starting the process had triggered it to self destruct, destroying itself and its source along with it. As if the second it stopped being used to actively cause destruction, it was no longer needed. As if this man and “his” magic were a one-use weapon.

Someone had done this to him. Someone had cursed this man to die what was meant to be such a terrifying and lonely death, surrounded only by his own guilt and agony.   
  
Junhui grips the man’s hand as tightly as possible, squeezing it in a poor attempt to give comfort as the man writhes and spasms, and then he’s suddenly still, mouth forming a little circle as he focuses on Junhui.

“I remember,” the man says, oddly coherent. Junhui doesn't even have time to ask what he means before the man is dead, eyes staring blankly up at the sky over Junhui's head, the sunset finally unobstructed by his magic. 

In his peripheral vision, Junhui can glimpse Seokmin standing frozen in the distance across a field of littered debris and soot. It’s silent.

Junhui bites his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Seokmin won’t stop crying.

Junhui sits across from him, numbly staring into space. Somewhere in the station, the man’s body is currently being examined by the autopsy team. He wonders if they’ll be able to find anything.

There’s a slipper on his right foot now, looking far too out of place for the dreary station cafeteria that they’re sitting in. It’s Christmas themed, all snowmen and reindeer, taken the only pair that Soonyoung had in his office. Junhui would probably find that funny in a different situation. 

Right now, all he can think about is the report he had given hours earlier. About what it all could mean. About what the hell he’s supposed to do now. 

Observing his partner across the table, Junhui wonders if there are any gods in the universe willing to strike him down right there. That miserable expression absolutely does not belong on Seokmin’s face, and even if Junhui knows that he isn’t the cause of Seokmin’s sadness, even if he knows that he has already apologized to the younger countless times, he can’t help but feel guilty. Seokmin obviously has never experienced anything like what had happened today, and Junhui hasn’t exactly been the best mentor.

Rolling out the car window without explaining the situation truly had not been one of his teachable moments.

The door to the cafeteria opens, saving him from the hellscape of his current thoughts. Junhui turns his head, somewhat grateful until he notices Soonyoung’s grim expression poking through the crack. If sadness doesn’t belong on Seokmin, seriousness doesn’t belong on Soonyoung. It’s an expression that’s so out of place, Junhui wants to shrivel up at the sight of it. 

“Junnie,” he calls out, a summons. Junhui immediately gets to his feet, unsteadily walking over and giving a shaky smile over his shoulder to Seokmin, which is probably more dooming than it is reassuring. Seokmin returns the expression very faintly, nursing his lukewarm hot chocolate and trying to hide how much he’s been crying from Soonyoung.

One they’re safely in the hallway, Soonyoung gives Junhui a long look.

“There’s a man who wants to speak to you.” He says, leaving a long enough pause between his statements that Junhui knows he isn’t going to like what comes next. “Some sort of special agent. He’s very insistent that you join his team, but you know I’m never going to make decisions for you.”

Junhui nods ruefully. “So it wasn’t an isolated incident.”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung answers honestly. It’s silent for several painful seconds, and then Soonyoung’s looking at him again and Junhui senses what’s coming.

“You don’t have to give me the ‘It’s not your fault’ talk,” Junhui says calmly, earning a small frown from Soonyoung.

“You don’t know that that’s what I was going to say,” the other protests feebly. “I could have wanted to ask you about your opinion on the latest Lee Jihoon single.”

It’s a lame attempt at a joke and they both know it, but Junhui tries to smile at him anyway. “Make sure you take care of yourself too, Soonyoung. Something tells me there’s gonna be a lot of work coming to the station in the next few weeks.”

“Hey, you don’t get to make this about me!” Soonyoung pouts, and for a moment, Junhui feels almost lighter. He nudges the station chief gently with his elbow, a hint of playfulness that they both need. “Alright. Just… thank you. And be careful.”

Soonyoung smiles back. “Only if you promise to be careful too. We need you now more than ever, Junhui.” 

“Wasn’t planning on running away.”

“Wouldn’t dream of accusing you of it. Just get some rest after Scary McScareface in there is done talking to you.”

Junhui grunts lightly in affirmation, though he can think of little he wants to do less than rest at the moment. Being alone and unoccupied right now seems like torture. Soonyoung clearly notices his reaction but doesn’t press because sometimes, in the rare moments when he decides to have common sense, he can be cool like that.

“He’s waiting in here,” Soonyoung says, making a face that is definitely not polite for a magical police chief to be making about his guest. “Good luck.”

Junhui nods, somewhat amused as he raps lightly on the door. 

“Come in,” a deep voice calls. 

Junhui obliges, slipping inside carefully and letting the door close behind him. The gruffly serious looking man glances up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“Hello, Junhui." He says. "My name is Jeon Wonwoo and I need you to tell me absolutely everything that you witnessed today.” 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more establishing stuff :D  
> (in case it wasn't clear, in this universe, there are people born with the ability to use magic and people born without it. both groups are fully aware of each other!!!)

By the time he has finished recounting the day’s events, Wonwoo appears to be deep in thought across the desk. 

Junhui fidgets, uncomfortable with the lack of a response. After what feels like an eternity, the other man finally looks up at him again. He’s almost grateful to find himself back under the intensity of that piercing stare. 

“I’m sure you understand the severity of the situation,” Wonwoo says calmly, his hands folded together atop the desk. “I could make you sign a nondisclosure agreement but I hope that won’t be necessary.”

He raises one elegant eyebrow at Junhui, challenging. Junhui gulps involuntarily. “Of course.”

“Good. Then I’d like to fill you in,” Wonwoo begins, waiting for another nod of permission before he starts to explain. “I met the first 'victim' almost two weeks ago. It was a woman that I had never seen before. I noticed her start to tail me while I was shopping. She followed me for almost thirty minutes and I led her out into the woods. She confronted me, we fought, and when I beat her she decayed into death.”

Junhui frowns, waiting for the other man to continue. “She wouldn’t say why she was attacking me but she was clearly determined. I’m certain that she was well aware that she wouldn’t be able to control her magic and activated it anyway. I'm also sure she knew that I was luring her away from the populated areas and followed me regardless. For some reason, she really wanted me dead.”

His expression contorts.

“I knocked her unconscious to sever the magic before she could do any damage. The second she dropped, her body literally just started rotting.” His frown deepens. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Within minutes, there was nothing left except dust, no matter what I tried to do to stop it. Somehow, the evidence team from my district managed to collect most of it. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy here to be certain, but I’m very confident that traces of the same strain of magic are going to be found in both that dust and the body of the victim from today.”

Junhui stares at him, stomach twisting. “Was anyone able to… identify her?”

“I matched her pretty quickly to a missing persons report that had been filed a few weeks earlier by her employer. Lee Stephanie. No family left, no friends, but we did find hospital records dating back to her birth. That’s where the best clue we’ve got so far comes from. According to her records, she didn’t have magical abilities. None at all.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“100 percent.”

Leaning back, Junhui’s brow furrows. “So… what? You think someone’s trying to give magic to people born without it?”

Wonwoo nods, drumming his knuckles on the surface of the desk. “Exactly. That would at least partially explain how foul and unnatural it felt. Of course, I can’t solidify that hypothesis until we get the autopsy results and identification for today’s victim.”

“There are still several big questions,” Junhui counters, although Wonwoo’s idea does seem plausible. “First of all, the man I met today said that he had used magic before for little things. If, say, hypothetically you’re right, it could be possible that he began training to use his new powers between going missing and being given magic, but why would shutting off his magic after making a broom move not kill him just like stopping the storm did?”

Wonwoo regards him thoughtfully, which Junhui takes as an invitation to continue. “Also, according to your description, Ms. Lee came after you voluntarily and seemed to understand the risks of using her magic. I can’t help but wonder why anyone would agree to be given magic just to become a one-use weapon. I can only guess that she must have had some sort of extreme vendetta against magic users and came after you specifically because of that, but that only accounts for her. The man today didn’t seem to understand anything that was happening to him until he claimed to remember something before he died. Yet another thing we don't know."

“You’re right,” Wonwoo sighs. “There are too many things up in the air right now to decide on a single answer to this case. That’s why I can’t do this alone.”

Junhui blinks, having forgotten that was the reason the man originally wanted to see him. He’s probably expecting a reply right now, Junhui realizes, and for a moment he almost panics before remembering what this is about. His answer should be obvious. He owes it to the man who had died in his arms to find the truth. More than that, Junhui has a responsibility to keep the public safe no matter what, whether that be by stopping people from being kidnapped or preventing those victims from then harming others. 

Junhui has always wanted his big case, always wanted to show his importance somehow even if Soonyoung reassures him frequently that he’s one of the most essential members of the station team. On a more selfish level that Junhui rarely indulges, he recognizes that this could also be his chance to prove himself.

“I’ll gladly help,” he says finally, and for the first time, he sees the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth twitch up into what might be the beginnings of a smile. "We will solve this, no matter what."

Wonwoo inclines his head to hide the expression. "If you're that optimistic, I guess I can bear being a little more confident too."

Junhui actually does end up going home early despite his reluctance.

The preliminary autopsy results won’t be released until at least the early afternoon tomorrow anyway, he tells himself. Sitting at the station in his filthy clothes isn’t going to do him any good. 

The first thing he does when he walks in is take off Soonyoung’s slipper and the dirty sock, gingerly dropping it in the laundry basket with a grimace. Wonwoo had raised an eyebrow at his footwear on his way out of the office but thankfully hadn’t made any comments. Junhui thinks he might have died of embarrassment if he had. 

He really needs to take a hot shower and then start icing his shoulder, but right then one of his gacha games lights up his screen telling him that his energy has been refilled and Junhui is nothing if not a weak man for mobile games. 

Tapping away at his phone screen, Junhui still can’t entirely distract himself. He does feel pretty awful for abandoning Seokmin after one day on the job together, especially considering what had happened. In the long run though, it might actually be a good thing. He had, after all, managed to convince Soonyoung to temporarily take the rookie under his wing. Junhui knows how much Seokmin admires Soonyoung and how much Soonyoung needs someone around right now to keep him from overworking himself. Their personalities are compatible too. It's perfect. Junhui snickers to himself. Knowing Soonyoung, he’ll probably end up working with him for only a few days and then promptly declare them partners for life. 

Thinking about them keeps his mind off of the face of the man who had died earlier, though Junhui knows he can’t avoid that forever. He’ll have to go in around noon tomorrow and find out if the man’s identity had been traced. It’s not something he’s looking forward to by any means. This job won't be easy, that's for sure. At least Wonwoo doesn’t seem like he’ll be difficult to work with. 

They’ve already outlined a plan to start patrols tomorrow, scouting the city for any signs of the foul magic. For now, at least, they’ll be sticking together. It’s less likely for an encounter to end in another death if they approach it in a pair. They’ve only come up with one way to restrain the deviants without killing them so far, a special set of wristbands that significantly dampen the effects of magic without halting it. They’re supposed to be a training tool for children and it’ll be a damn hassle to suppress anyone but it’s the best they can do. 

Junhui had voiced his concerns about not being able to cover the entire city on patrol so they had decided to enlist Soonyoung, Seokmin, and a team from Wonwoo’s station, Jeonghan and Mingyu. They had also warned the regular police stations in the city to keep an eye out for increased abductions, sparing them any of the gruesome details.

Junhui hadn’t wanted to involve Soonyoung but the other had practically begged him when Wonwoo had traitorously asked him anyway, pleading that it would be more fun to do his paperwork in the patrol car. Junhui had pretended to be exasperated, rolling his eyes and making some snarky comment about his minuscule likelihood to do any paperwork in the first place to hide his dissatisfaction. He had been equally unhappy about Seokmin joining the team but he can at least admit that Seokmin has seen what they’re dealing with firsthand. In the best-case scenario, Seokmin will be able to recognize the threat and then Soonyoung can cover for his inexperience. 

Wonwoo had assured him that Jeonghan and Mingyu are very competent, not seeming bothered in the slightest. Junhui had decided to trust him, allowing him to leave to brief them while he wrangled the more worrisome duo. 

It’s going to be exhausting, Junhui knows that for sure. He needs to get all the rest he can now, before the endless patrols begin. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The six of them gather in the same ugly cafeteria at noon the next day.

Junhui has to admit that both Jeonghan and Mingyu are very striking. If someone were to tell him that they had just come from a fashion magazine shoot, he would probably believe them. Mingyu seems harmless, maybe a bit clumsy. He’s got the same sort of innocent look as Seokmin. Jeonghan, on the other hand, is devious. Junhui can tell instantly that he’s the one to watch out for. They're both polite enough but Junhui gets the feeling that they'd be a lot more fun to hang out with outside of work. 

He’s spared from any more awkward group small talk by Wonwoo bringing out the autopsy report.

“Another missing person,” he begins. “Kim Insu. His mother reported him missing two days after the report for Stephanie was filed, reportedly within a few hours of his disappearance. She confirmed his identity this morning. He was unemployed and apparently didn’t leave the house much aside from trips to the convenience store on the corner. He was supposed to be at this convenience store when he went missing. His mother and his records both confirm that he was born without any magical abilities. The same traces of magic were found in both his body and Stephanie’s remains. His cause of death was determined to be organ failure from magical interference. Upon inspection, many of his internal organs had been charred beyond functionality, including his heart. That’s all the important stuff.”

He looks tired, Junhui notes pityingly. Apparently the other man had not taken an early night yesterday like he had recommended Junhui to. Hypocrite.

“Do we know where Stephanie went missing?” It’s Jeonghan who asks, breaking the silence first, chin resting on his hand languidly as if he’s somehow bored by this discussion. His eyes, however, betray his true interest.

“Could’ve been anywhere,” Wonwoo replies. “She hadn’t shown up to work for almost a week before her employer reported her disappearance. Her home and the store she worked at were both on the opposite side of the city from Insu’s though. We can’t rule out that the kidnapper is picking people from a certain area, but right now it doesn’t seem like something we should focus on.”

Soonyoung nods thoughtfully. “Right. We should stick to our plan for patrols unless that changes. Everyone know your routes?

There’s a chorus of hums around the table.

“Got your radios?”

“Of course.”

“Got the bracelets?”

“Mm.”

“Got an AUX cord?”

Junhui elbows him sharply, barely managing to hide the fact that he had wanted to laugh. Soonyoung does laugh and Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at them from across the table. Junhui gives him a tentative smile and is surprised when he earns a nod in return. He has no idea if Wonwoo really is as serious as he looks, but for now, Junhui’s going to try his best to be cautious. 

He can always bring out the jokester, prankster Junhui later. Until then, it’s Work Junhui **™** , all business, no play.

(Something tells him he probably won’t be able to keep that up for long.)

“Let’s go then,” Mingyu says, interrupting his thoughts. “No time to waste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am slightly worried about my characterization in this fic i hope it doesn't seem too off  
> thank u for reading <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dialogue dialogue dialogue dialogue

They take Wonwoo’s cruiser.

Junhui’s is going to be in the shop for at least another week, much to his disappointment. He doesn’t mind Wonwoo’s really, it’s just that it’s too neat, lacking the fun and character that Junhui tries to leak into every space that he occupies for an extended period of time. 

He glances over at Wonwoo, hearing the engine rumble to a start as the keys click into the ignition. The other pays him no mind, fastening his seatbelt and running a hand through his hair unconsciously before checking the map one last time. They’ll be taking the area of the city where Insu was abducted, an extra opportunity to gather clues. 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Junhui asks innocently as Wonwoo puts the car in reverse, earning an expression of genuine surprise. The other grips the wheel, glancing briefly over his shoulder to the otherwise motionless parking lot. As soon as the car is back in drive, he finally answers, almost reluctantly. “Not really. Is it that obvious?”

Junhui shrugs. “Your eyes are screaming it. I was going to volunteer to drive so you could get some rest but I figured you wouldn’t want me behind the wheel of your car after what happened yesterday.”

He earns a small snort for his efforts. “We both know the crash wasn’t a result of you being a bad driver, Jun. But I’m fine anyway, I promise. I’m used to late nights and early mornings. I do appreciate the concern though.” 

“Jun?” Junhui asks, gently teasing. He’s pushing his luck and he knows it, but he can’t help himself. “Are we doing nicknames now? Then can I call you Woo? Woowoo? Wonwon?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “If you’re going to be like that then I’ll go back to using your full name.”

“Nah,” Junhui replies with a cheeky grin, satisfied that he hadn’t pissed him off. “I like Jun. It’s nice. Lots of people call me that anyway.”

“Then I’ll keep calling you Jun and you absolutely will not call me any of those ridiculous things. Deal?”

Junhui pretends to sigh long-sufferingly. “If that is the way it must be, Great Leader, then so be it.”

“Stop that right now.”

The smile almost comes through in his voice and he immediately clears his throat to hide it. The action does not go unnoticed by Junhui, who folds his hands in his lap, secretly delighted at the response he had earned. “Jokes aside,” he begins again, observing Wonwoo. “I hope you’ll be able to get some rest tonight. Do you have anything going on outside of this?”

“No,” Wonwoo replies shortly. “Soonyoung probably told you but I’m more of a special agent than a regular officer. I only work on the big cases and the weird ones. If nothing’s going on in the city I work remotely. It's not like I’m busy outside of work either.”

Junhui hums, not sure that he entirely understands Wonwoo’s job description. As lucrative of a position as it appears, Junhui doesn’t think he’d want the same lifestyle. He’d miss coming in and seeing his coworkers too much. It seems rude to pry further or ask if Wonwoo ever misses the regular officer role, so he abruptly switches subjects. “Do you have any pets?”

Wonwoo’s clearly amused by the question, finger switching on the turn signal as his voice fits into its rhythmic ticking. “We’re on patrol to look for clues into what’s more or less a murder mystery and you ask me if I have any pets. You’re something special, Jun.”

“It’s a simple question,” Junhui defends cheerfully, settling back into his seat and stifling a yawn. Wonwoo’s passed it on to him, he realizes, unable to really get mad at the other man for it. It’s not his fault he’s tired, even if Junhui hates the fact that he’s now going to be yawning for the next thirty minutes. The pause lasts so long that Junhui yawns again and is almost convinced that Wonwoo fully intends to avoid his question until he softly replies, “I have two cats.”

Immediately, Junuhi perks back up, eyes wide and excited. “Really? I love cats! Don’t have any right now though ‘cause I’m not home enough to keep them company.”

“That’s responsible,” Wonwoo assures him. “Mine are needy little creatures but I love them anyway. They’re my pride and joy.”

He stops talking, fake-glaring at Junhui out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I said that. Can’t risk ruining my reputation.”

Junhui grins. “Your secret is safe with me. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think loving your cats makes you any less intimidating. People with someone waiting at home have a reason to fight harder and win bigger. That's pretty scary if you ask me."

“Hm,” Wonwoo replies, and Junhui can tell that he had been about to ask if Junhui has anyone waiting for him at home. He’s glad the other man refrained. It’s not that it’s necessarily a painful topic, just one he doesn’t want to discuss. Telling your coworker that you’re lonely is probably not a good decision in any situation, even if they’re only here temporarily. 

It’s silent again for a few moments, and then Junhui coughs to break the awkwardness. “Well, what are their names?”

“My cats?” Wonwoo questions, almost smiling again when Junhui nods eagerly in response. “Mary and Lily. Not all that creative or interesting.”

“I think those are lovely names,” Junhui praises. “They go well together.”

“The two of them are sisters. I thought it would be fitting.”

“Good choice.”

Glad that they resolved whatever weird tension had almost crept up, Junhui reaches for the car radio, looking to Wonwoo for permission and then turning it on. Immediately, a very girly, very cute pop song blasts from the speakers, sending Junhui into a fit of laughter as he struggles to turn it down over the pain in his ears. 

“My God,” Wonwoo bemoans. “I think my car’s been cursed too.”

Junhui finally stops laughing and lets it play, enjoying the catchy melody (and secretly reveling in the fact that Wonwoo isn’t telling him to turn it off or change the station). For several minutes, they don’t speak except to comment on the music. There’s no more conversation, but Junhui doesn’t think there needs to be.

When Wonwoo finally pulls the car into the dingy parking lot behind the convenience store on the corner, Junhui’s infinitely more comfortable with him. It’s funny just how much cats and a little pop music can make him like someone. Maybe despite his facade, Wonwoo is actually a genuinely friendly guy. 

“Not the nicest place,” Wonwoo remarks as he opens his door and gets out, staring at the garbage that litters the asphalt. Junhui follows suit, unable to disagree. It’s tucked into an alleyway, probably only used for parking by employees on most days, haunted as it is by the smell of greasy food and sewage. 

Carefully, Wonwoo swings open the back door to the place, holding it open just long enough for Junhui to slip in behind him. They’re not expecting to find anything here, really, but it doesn’t hurt to check. 

Sure enough, it looks like an ordinary convenience store. There are various sections and products, including some jelly snacks on display that Junhui makes a mental note to check for later at the corner store by his apartment building. Wonwoo notices him staring and raises an eyebrow, walking over and picking up one of the bags. Junhui flushes bright red. 

“I wasn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo dismisses. “They’ll treat us better if we buy something anyway.”

He surreptitiously motions toward the bored-looking cashier and Junhui nods sheepishly, possibly even more embarrassed than he was before. He hadn’t meant to be that obvious. Not that Wonwoo seems like the kind of guy who would make fun of him for it after the conversation they had in the car.

“Hey,” Wonwoo calls, turning to approach the cashier. Junhui hurries to follow, pushing down his internal conflict in favor of studying the young woman who droopily regards them. “How may I help you?” She drawls.

Wonwoo puts the bag of jellies up on the counter and she disinterestedly begins to scan them. “I’d like to buy these. Also, did you work a shift on the 25th?”

His attack is so casual that even Junhui is almost caught off guard. “Dunno,” she replies, although Junhui notices that her gaze sharpens ever so slightly. “Don’t remember. Sorry. That’ll be 3500 won.”

He hands over the money silently, clearly having noticed the same odd reaction as Junhui. “Couldn't you check your calendar for us?” Junhui steps in, using the sweet voice that he uses exclusively when he wants something. “You guys must have a schedule somewhere, right?”

“I don’t get why you want to know. Here’s your receipt, have a great day.”

Wonwoo darts a hand across the counter, the flash of his badge catching the light and stopping her attempted retreat. She grimaces at the sight of it, looking back at them with a hint of defeat. “Fine. Yes. I was working the night shift on the 25th. Yes, _that_ man came in here. He was acting really weird, stumbling around and slurring his words. Probably drunk. He bought a coke and left. That’s all.”

“May I ask how you knew exactly what event we were asking about?” Junhui asks calmly. “And why you were reluctant to tell us?”

She frowns, shrugging. “Two people have already come in to ask about it. Before the 25th, he always stopped in pretty frequently. His mom came in after he left that day and asked me if he’d been here. She seemed frantic and I put two and two together when he hasn’t come in since.”

“And the other person who asked about him?” Wonwoo asks quietly, making cautious eye contact with Jun.  
  
She pauses where she’d been putting the money into the cash register, frowning. “I don’t know. We get weird people in here all the time since it’s a 24/7 store but this guy was seriously… I dunno. He asked me if I had seen anything weird on the 25th, maybe around three days after? I told him I hadn’t ‘cause he was freaky. He asked my coworker the same thing on his shift later, but I'd warned him beforehand not to spill anything. Guy didn’t buy anything either time. When you came up and started asking, I thought you guys might have been related to him so I didn't want to talk.”

Junhui’s frown deepens. Something doesn’t bode well here. “Do you remember anything about him? What he looked like? What he was wearing?”

“Well,” the girl replies, clearly uncomfortable. “I told you he was freaky, right? He was wearing one of those skin masks that people wear on Halloween, really bizarre. Sunglasses too. No way to see his face. I thought he was gonna try to rob me for sure. If you want, though, I can tell the security guy to send the footage from that day over to your station. Dunno if it’ll still be in the system, but it can’t hurt to try I guess.” 

Wonwoo smiles at her, expression devoid of any real happiness. “That’d be great. Thanks for your help. Tell him to look for Jeon Wonwoo if he can recover it. He should be able to find my contact info.”

She nods, and with that, they turn to go. 

“Thank you, come again!” She calls dryly over their shoulders. 

Junhui doesn’t think he will.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Several hours of scouring the area later, they detect no noticeable traces of the magic.

Wonwoo has been mostly quiet since they’ve left the store, clearly thinking about what the girl had told them. Junhui’s thinking about it too, almost walking straight into a lamppost before Wonwoo reaches out and gently stops him. 

“Let’s sit down,” the other officer says, not unkindly, and Junhui obliges. Wonwoo takes off his backpack, rummaging inside and handing over the bag of jellies that he had bought. Junhui stares at it and then looks back up at him and grins despite his fatigue, ripping it open and gratefully eating one of the heavenly candies. “Thanks.”

Wonwoo shrugs him off, still accepting one when Junhui tries to pass it to him. He makes a face at how sour it is and Junhui laughs. The mood stays cheerful for several moments, and then Wonwoo opens his mouth once again.

“I just don’t get it,” he starts, watching a fat pigeon peck at the sidewalk nearby. “What’s the deal with the man? Do you think he’s trying to cover up evidence? Could he be the perpetrator? Is he a private investigator? Just a weirdo?”

Junhui sobers up immediately. “I don’t know either. I don’t think we can say for sure, but I think it’s most likely that he's working with whoever we’re up against. Or that he is who we're up against. A normal person wouldn’t try to ask for information in a mask like the one she described. I just wonder what he would’ve done if she had ended up telling him that she had seen something strange.”

“Well, she didn’t _really_ see anything, right?” Wonwoo asks, thoughtful. “She told us that she just thought Insu was acting drunk.”

The pigeon takes off and both of them watch it go mournfully. Junhui already misses its company. “That’s true, I guess. Do we know if him just being drunk at the time was a possibility?"

“I would say it’s definitely a possibility. His mother has admitted that he’s a drinker, but if that were the case, why would the man who came into the store have thought that the cashier could have seen something?”

It’s a good question. “Maybe they, and I’m using they here because we still don’t know if there are multiple people involved in this, kidnapped Insu after he left the convenience store. It’s possible that they waited until he was drunk to have an easier time bringing him down. The man might have been worried that the girl had seen something through the window.” He pauses. “This is all just conjecture though.”

“Well, it’s as good of a guess as mine,” Wonwoo replies sourly, slowly standing back up. “For now let’s hold on to the hope that the security camera footage will miraculously show up and somehow give us a clue as to the man’s identity.”

Junhui nods, getting up with a sigh to follow him. He tucks the jellies safely away in one of the deep pockets of his uniform, determined to savor them later. “Maybe the others have found something,” he suggests, not even really believing it himself. Wonwoo indulges him anyway, pulling out the radio he’s been carrying and dialing Soonyoung. “I guess we might as well warn them,” he murmurs to Junhui. “Just in case.”

“Hiya!”

It’s Seokmin’s voice that comes through the line, bright, cheerful, and probably not appropriate for the seriousness of the matter at hand. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Seokmin. Is Soonyoung with you?”

“That’s an affirmative, commander.”

Wonwoo has to visibly restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “Alright. Make sure he hears, I don’t want to repeat this. Jun and I just stopped in the convenience store near Insu’s house and the cashier told us that a strange man has been asking around about the day of Insu’s disappearance. For now, we have to assume that he’s probably not on the same side as us. Just be careful, okay? It’s not that important right now but let me know if anyone around you is acting suspicious." 

“We’re always careful,” Soonyoung chirps through the receiver. “But thanks for the update. Nothing’s happened on our end so far. I’m not slacking off though, I promise! Finished filing-”

Wonwoo cuts the connection, dialing up Jeonghan without even a second's pause. Junhui can’t help but laugh, amusing himself by imagining Soonyoung’s incredulous reaction on the other side of the line as Wonwoo calmly recites the same schpiel to the other duo. Jeonghan hums thoughtfully at the news, assuring them that they’ll add it to their list of things to look out for. 

Nothing new on that end either.

“Okay,” Wonwoo says with a tone of finality, turning his attention fully back to Junhui. “Let’s get back to the cruiser and start scouting further out.”

“Yessir,” Junhui replies, mock saluting and earning another twitch of the lips for his efforts.   
  
  


The sun’s starting to go down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy okay i hope this wasn't too all over the place


	4. Chapter Four

Nothing actually happens that night, despite Junhui’s trepidation.

That’s fine, really. Nothing happening means no danger, no fighting, no weird men in masks following them. Nothing happening that night had not been the problem. The problem is that five days have now passed since then, and still nothing has happened.

Except, in reality, a lot has happened. Just not to them. While Junhui and Wonwoo have been taking shifts through the night, one driving as the other dozes in the back of the cruiser, high on the buzz from energy drinks and espresso shots, people have been disappearing all over the city. While Junhui and Wonwoo have been politely asking civilians on the street if they’ve seen anything odd lately, somewhere in the city the mastermind has been building his army. While Junhui and Wonwoo have been frantically searching for clues while surviving on stale bagels and Chinese takeout, they've been running out of time.

Even with six of them out patrolling, they haven’t found any more evidence or even caught wind of an abduction taking place. The security camera footage had been recovered, only to be so blurry and pixelated that it had been difficult to even visually distinguish the masked man from the surroundings of the store. Wonwoo’s frustrated and Junhui doesn’t blame him. Nothing is working. All of their efforts so far have been useless. 

It’s why they’re in this cramped meeting room in the city center now, stuffed together glumly as the city’s chief of police taps his spindly fingers against the side of his coffee cup. Junhui can feel Wonwoo’s shoulder against his on his left, a small reassurance, though something tells him the younger man probably needs the comfort more than he does. 

Over the last few days, they’ve had many conversations, many insignificant, some not so much. During one of them, Wonwoo had told Junhui in confidence that he was worried about this exact scenario happening, and his prediction has ended up coming true. 

“We need to make an announcement,” the chief of police says finally. His finger taps once more against the plastic lid of his cup and Junhui wants nothing more in that moment than to send it flying off the table. “Clearly you six alone are not enough to handle this case. Even the non-magical police have been unable to catch any kidnappings happening. This is not an issue that we can let sit any longer.” 

Jeonghan leans forward, his gaze much sterner than Junhui remembers. When he had tried to ask if something was wrong in the elevator, Jeonghan had cheerfully told him his moodiness was a natural symptom of prolonged exposure to Mingyu. He had then proceeded to pat the taller man on the back, confusing Junhui greatly as to the nature of their relationship.

“Are you really saying that we should tell the public?” Jeonghan breathes, breaking Junhui out of his irrelevant train of thought about whether or not Mingyu and Jeonghan are friends. The chief nods sharply at the question and Junhui sees Soonyoung deflate across the table, powerless against the word of his boss. “What other choice do we have?” The chief challenges. “If we cannot protect the people, we must give them enough information to protect themselves.”

Wonwoo leans forward, his warmth disappearing from Junhui’s side. His hands are clasped together tightly where they rest on the table, knuckles white with strain. “And if we incite mass panic? Or if we encourage people to seek them out?”

“I can’t give you any more time, Wonwoo. I expected this investigation to be much simpler and certainly much more efficient. People are already noticing the increased number of disappearances. If we don’t give them an explanation, they’ll come up with their own. At least this way, they’ll know what’s hitting them.” 

Junhui stares down at where his hands rest in his lap. He knows what the chief is saying is true. He just doesn’t want it to be. Whether they release a statement or not, public distrust is only going to grow. 

“Can we lie?” Mingyu asks tentatively, wilting under the glare his question earns him. 

“Out of the question,” the chief snaps. “It is our duty to protect our citizens and this is the current best way. I do not wish to hear any more protests from any of you. I will begin to prepare a statement. In the meantime, I expect all of you to continue patrols as usual. The investigation must go on no matter how the public ends up responding.”

It’s quiet for several seconds, the tension in the room palpable. Junhui can hear Soonyoung breathing, can hear Seokmin kicking something underneath the table, can see Mingyu shifting from foot to foot out of the corner of his eye, can almost feel Wonwoo's discontent floating in the air. The chief sighs nasally as he takes them in, shoulders standing tall. “I’ll hold the press release tonight. Dismissed.”

No one moves immediately, only able to pathetically trail after Jeonghan when he sharply turns on his heel and exits first. No one else quite manages to imitate the graceful dramaticism of his exit. Junhui's pretty sure that Mingyu even trips on the carpet behind him but he doesn't dare look back to check. They must make for a sorry sight. 

It’s only once they’ve made it back into the elevator to the ground floor that anyone speaks, Seokmin unsurprisingly being the first to break the silence. 

“Do you think it’ll be okay?” He asks, earning nothing but a fond hair ruffle from a still-disgruntled Jeonghan. Soonyoung, Junhui, and Mingyu all try to smile at him reassuringly instead of verbalizing an answer. Wonwoo is clearly incapable of replicating the expression.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he mutters under his breath, so quiet that even Junhui barely picks up his words. “And I’m not usually wrong.”

  
  
  
  


The two of them had gone out for lunch after that, a halfhearted attempt on Junhui’s part to lift Wonwoo’s spirits. 

Technically, they should have been out patrolling, but Junhui is of the opinion that no good work can be done in a foul mood. Junhui had drawn a cartoon cat on his napkin while Wonwoo was eating, presenting it to him and earning a small snort for his efforts. Wonwoo had still pocketed the napkin though, so Junhui can only hope that it had managed to cheer him up a little.

It’s almost six in the evening when the announcement finally happens. 

Sitting idly in the passenger seat of the cruiser, Junhui whips open his phone at the notification, quickly tapping the news app and focusing all of his attention on the window that pops up. Wonwoo pulls the car over to the curb, leaning over Junhui’s shoulder to be able to see the screen.

The chief’s face is there when the video finally loads, calm and collected as he sits in front of the invited reporters.

“Good evening, everyone,” he begins, voice tinny through the speakers of Junhui’s phone. “I am here tonight to make a public safety announcement. Over the past few weeks, we have discovered a concerning threat to our city in the form of some individual or organization that is abducting ordinary humans, weaponizing them through the extremely unsafe and lethal injection of magic into their bodies, and then sending them to their deaths. We ask that all citizens, magically gifted or not, be cautious. If you are leaving the house, please make sure to take-”

His voice is cut off abruptly, distorted into something unintelligible as the screen crackles.

“What the hell?” Wonwoo whispers, entirely too close to Junhui’s neck. He shrugs, brow furrowing as he peers closer. Something is clearly interfering with the broadcast. Maybe Wonwoo’s premonition had been right after all. 

Junhui gets the feeling that Wonwoo hadn't been lying when he had said that he's not usually wrong. 

A different video begins feeding onto the screen, a masked face appearing in front of the camera that’s too similar to the description that the cashier at the corner store had given them to be coincidental. Junhui squints. There's nothing in the room that serves as a clue to his location, the walls a plain grey. He glances over at Wonwoo, whose face has contorted into a grimace of displeasure similar to the expression that Junhui is sure he must also be sporting. "So it really is him."

“Good evening, everyone,” the masked man says in poor imitation of the chief. His voice sounds unaltered and the irises of his eyes are unhidden by the mask. Brown, Junhui notes to himself, internalizing the man's voice at the same time. They need everything they can get. 

“I don’t have much time," the masked man begins. "So I’ll get right to the point. We need your help. Don’t believe the lies that the police and the government want to spread about us to maintain their power hierarchy. Humanity has been at the mercy of magicians for far too long. All we want is to even the playing field a little, to give people the ability to defend themselves. With the research we’ve begun on transplanting magic into ordinary human bodies, we’ll be able to create a society in which everyone can live as equals. There will be no more fear, no more conflict. Join us and you can be on the right side of the revolution. We are the future."

He smiles at the camera, mask curling up around his lips. "I'll wait for you."

The broadcast abruptly cuts out and the chief’s startled face returns to the screen, clearly lost and confused. Unable to stomach anymore, Junhui hits the power button, throwing his head back into the headrest of the car seat and letting out a long exhale. Neither of them has to speak to convey their thoughts on the masked man’s message. The goal that he claims to have is not the bad part. Junhui actually likes that part. A society without divisions would be incredible. Everyone either having magic or not having it would be incredible. The problem is that he's certain that's not the man's real goal. Even if it was, the horrible nature of his methods would still incite Junhui's anger against him. But now, Junhui fears that the masked man's true intention is to start a war, to throw fuel onto the fire of a conflict that has been brewing for centuries. 

“How did they know?” Wonwoo asks finally, fingers clenched. “I don’t understand how they knew when the broadcast would be, or even how they did that. The press release was just planned this morning. Even if they learned about it at the same time as we did, it must take more time than that to plan a hack into a broadcasting station.” 

Junhui doesn’t have any answers. He stares ahead bitterly. If the man’s message was true, then why had Kim Insu been so helpless and terrified. If he had chosen his fate, why had he reached out for Junhui’s hand in the moments before his death, clinging so desperately to life. It’s too obvious a lie, he thinks, but he understands why members of the public might believe it. Whether or not the majority of people do, the anti-magic sentiment in the city is sure to be on the rise. Everything is only going to get harder from now on.

“I want to take a shower,” Junhui says. 

Wonwoo barks out a laugh at that, a real laugh, more at the absurdity of it than anything. It’s clear that he understands though, from the look he shoots Junhui. They’re both running on fumes here.

The radio buzzes in his pocket and Junhui immediately picks up regardless of his desire to do anything but, hearing Soonyoung’s panicked voice come through from the other side. 

“Did you guys see it?” He cries, audibly shuffling around. Wonwoo leans in and snatches the radio from Junhui’s grasp. “We saw,” he says gruffly. “Pass the message on."

He hangs up. 

Junhui looks at him questioningly, receiving a shake of the head in return. “You said you wanted to take a shower, Jun. That’s important business. Can’t be wasting time.”

This time, it’s Junhui who laughs, unable to stop once he starts. After several counts, Wonwoo joins in, both of them stressed enough to find the hilarity in their rapidly deteriorating situation. “The others get it,” Wonwoo says finally. “They take breaks too. We’re all human.”

“Dunno,” Junhui yawns. “Looking at your sleeping habits, I’d say you’re more of a cat.”

Wonwoo starts the car, rolling his eyes. “Can’t be. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead eating seafood.”

“Cats can eat other stuff too,” Junhui protests lamely. “Like, you know, um... other animals?”

Still smiling, Wonwoo shrugs. “I’ll take that to mean that you think of me as a hunter-type. I’m flattered.”

“Ugh,” Junhui groans. “So annoying. As if you would even be able to catch a mosquito if it landed on you.”

“I’ll have you know that I own an electric fly-swatter for that purpose.”

“How can a fly-swatter even be electric?” Junhui asks incredulously. “Does it swat on its own? Shock the fly?”

“You were right with the second guess,” Wonwoo replies smugly. “It zaps them.”

“That’s so dumb,” Junhui replies, although he secretly kind of wants to see it. Wonwoo takes the turn onto the road where Junhui’s apartment is located, laughing. They’ve stopped by each other’s apartments several times over the last week for shower and clothing trips. Luckily, their patrol location tonight had been in Junhui's general neighborhood. “I know you’re totally wishing you had one right now, don’t lie.”

Junhui lets out a humph. “I don’t like killing bugs anyway. Maybe I could use it on you though. That would be fun.”

“So mean,” Wonwoo sighs dramatically. “And to think I was going to offer to show you mine.”

Sticking out his tongue, Junhui settles back, his retort lost to space and time as he glances up the length of his apartment building.

His blood runs cold.

“Wonwoo,” Junhui says, eyes fixated on the figure very clearly standing in Junhui’s window and staring down at them, framed by the box of flowers on the ledge that Junhui had planted weeks ago. “Wonwoo, there’s someone in my apartment.”

The car screeches to a halt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was thinking of that useless gift exchange video they did where seungcheol brought the electric fly swatter and thus this ending conversation was born
> 
> thank you for reading as always <3


	5. Chapter Five

Junhui doesn’t think he’s ever taken the stairs as fast as he’s taking them right now, leaping two or three at a time as he scrambles to get to his floor. 

He had dashed from the car the second it had stopped, leaving Wonwoo in the dust in his haste. Whoever had been standing his window had clearly noticed them pull up. Unless they’re looking for a fight, they’ve probably already started to run. He has no time to waste.

Digging his nails into the palms of his hands, Junhui finally reaches his floor, swinging the door open wildly and staring down the hallway at the light that pours out of his wide-open entrance to his apartment. He dashes forward, the stairwell door slamming shut behind him with that awful screech that he knows his neighbors hate.  _ Sorry Ms. Lee _ , Junhui thinks, feet skidding on the carpet as he reaches his unit.

Two sunken eyes stare back at him from inside, pupils trembling and mouth forming the same two syllables over and over. It’s his name, Junhui realizes with a spike of confusion, his eyes widening when they finally pick up the kitchen knife in the boy's right hand. 

The boy takes one step forward, then another, raising the knife as if to threaten him. Junhui doesn’t move from the doorframe, observing him carefully. If the boy actually tries to hurt him, Junhui can easily defend himself or knock the knife out of reach with magic. Something tells him, though, that the boy doesn’t actually want to cause him harm.   
  
Four more steps and the tip of the knife hovers just off the fabric of his shirt, directly over his heart. One jab, and Junhui could die. It's a dangerous game to be playing. He stares from the blade to the face of the young man and back again, noticing that the boy's brow is furrowed so sharply that Junhui worries it might leave him with permanent wrinkles. 

And then the knife is being lowered, slowly but surely, until the boy flings it off to the side and makes a frantic run for the window.

Junhui sprints to follow, fingers stretching out to catch the sleeve of the intruder before he can think it through.

He’s close, fingertips maybe millimeters away, and then the boy goes crashing through, hurtling down to the ground in a beautiful hurricane of glass shards. 

Junhui, in what’s admittedly not one of his wisest moments, jumps right out after him. 

He fumbles to cast a layer of fluffy clouds quick enough to cushion both of their falls, barely managing in time to stop his ankles from snapping against the concrete. The moment he’s certain that he had actually survived the fall, Junhui reopens his eyes, noticing that the intruder has already freed himself from Junhui’s clouds. It’s an impressive testament to his strength and agility considering these things are denser than cotton candy, though Junhui can’t currently find it in himself to be willing to dish out compliments.  
  
“Wait,” He shouts after him. “Wait!”

The young man shows no signs of stopping, sending a terrified glance back at Junhui over his thin shoulder as the elder frustratedly dissipates his clouds, unable to wade through them fast enough.

“Jun!” Wonwoo calls down from the window above, finally having caught up. _Slowpoke_ , Junhui thinks. “Jun, be careful!”

Sparing him a wave that probably ends up appearing more dismissive than he had intended, Junhui takes off after the intruder, sending out a rope of harmless green flames to trip him before he reaches the main street. 

It’s entirely too effective. The boy falls flat on his face and goes sliding forward across the concrete, wailing at the friction burn. Skidding to a halt at his side, Junhui immediately casts a binding spell. The fact that he had tried to come at him with a knife makes Junhui hopeful that he won’t try to bring out magic, but the bonds are strong enough that they should at least make it difficult if he does try. 

“Who are you?” Junhui asks breathlessly, kneeling down and turning the young man over, wincing at the visibly torn up skin of his hands. Quick and deft, he casts a small healing spell, watching attentively as the cuts patch themselves up and the rash fade. “You don’t have to be afraid,” Junhui follows up, seeing how nervous the young man appears. “I’m only binding you like this for your own safety. You could have gotten seriously hurt jumping from that window, you know?”

The boy grimaces, looking down at where his hands are clenching into fists now that Junhui has conveniently banished the pain from them. He clearly doesn’t want to speak. “Come on,” Junhui coaxes. “If you won’t tell me your name, at least tell me why you were in my apartment. I know you must have some business with me.”

“I don’t know!” The boy nearly screams, suddenly agitated. “I don’t know! I woke up and I was just there and there was this voice and it was-”

He stops speaking, eyes glazing over for a moment before he regains control. “It wants me to kill you. But I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Junhui replies calmly, which is probably baffling to the confused boy in front of him. Calm isn't exactly the default emotion in this sort of situation. “It’s alright. Do you think you can ignore the voice? I still have a lot of things I want to do before I die.”

The boy nods against the asphalt, voice fading from upset to disoriented. “I… can. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“That’s good,” Junhui says reassuringly, finally hearing Wonwoo’s footsteps approach in the distance. He must have run all the way back down the stairs and out, but Junhui doesn’t really blame him for not wanting to make the jump out the window like a madman. “Do you know who you are?”

He shakes his head slowly. “My name is Chan. I think. I know things, but I don’t know how or where I learned them. I know that I should have memories, but I don’t. It’s just emptiness.”

“Junhui!” Wonwoo breathes, coming to a halt beside them as Junhui considers the boy's words. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Junhui replies with a small smile. “Chan’s not a threat. At least not for now.”

Moving to stand, he waves a hand to release the bonds holding the boy. “But if I’m right, he’s a clue. A very important one.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Thoughts of a warm shower temporarily forgotten, they take Chan back to Junhui’s station. 

Everything’s in chaos when they get there, everybody still reeling from the disaster of the press release earlier. Soonyoung arrives shortly after them and takes Chan into another room for interrogation, leaving them both to sit on a miserably cold bench in the hallway as various employees rush around and gossip. Seokmin stops by when they arrive to say hi and then disappears back into the maze of corridors to do god knows what. Junhui can only assume that Soonyoung had brought him along. 

“I turned off the lights and locked your door on the way out,” Wonwoo says conversationally, earning a slightly incredulous look from Junhui. “I have no idea how or why you remembered to do that. But thanks. That’s one less thing I have to worry about."

He’s already stressed enough about getting a quote for the repair cost of the window, although hopefully his renter’s insurance will cover most of it. That aside, there's also the concern of how Chan had gotten into his apartment. He won’t be able to stay at home for the time being as long as the risk of their enemy knowing his address remains up in the air. And if they’ve found his apartment, who else’s have they found?

Junhui sighs.

“You can stay at my place,” Wonwoo offers as if he's been reading Junhui's mind. “I mean, if you want to. Even if they know where I live too, it’s safer for the two of us to be together.”

Junhui smiles at him gratefully. “Thanks. I’m guessing we’ll be spending most of our nights in the car anyway, but I do appreciate it.”

“We'll see,” Wonwoo replies, stretching his arms up over his head. "The water pressure in the shower is really good though. I think you'd like it."

“At this point, I think the universe is conspiring against my quest to take a shower. I don't want to put your poor apartment in danger by bringing my curse inside."

“I could always summon a jet of water over your head right now," Wonwoo suggests unhelpfully, visibly smirking. "To help you out."  
  
“I would very much prefer it if you would  _ not _ do that, thank you.”

Wonwoo snickers and Junhui feels a droplet of water splash against his scalp. He sends a scathing glare toward the other male, who only laughs more openly. Junhui doesn’t know how he ever had the impression that Wonwoo was a serious guy. The man is just as much of an eight-year-old as he is. 

“Relax,” Wonwoo nudges him. “I’m not stupid enough to flood a police station.”

“Could have fooled me,” Junhui replies, sticking his tongue out childishly. "Swimming fool."

“C'mon, you have to admit that the look on Soonyoung’s face would be pretty funny.”

“Fair...” Junhui murmurs in defeat, swayed by the mental image of Soonyoung stepping out of the door into a massive puddle. "Maybe we can try it some other time."   
  
He’s no stranger to pulling magical pranks of his own, after all. It’d be hypocritical to shut Wonwoo down outright. 

“That’s the spirit,” Wonwoo cheers with his gruff voice, earning a fond eye-roll from Junhui.   
  
They sink back into a comfortable silence, both tapping away at their phones. Wonwoo’s playing some sort of strategy game, Junhui notices, perfect for a nerd like him. 

After a few minutes, he clears his throat, earning a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind when I ran upstairs by the way. And, um… when I jumped out the window. I should have waited for you.” 

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo responds. “You did what you felt was right in the moment. Nothing bad ended up happening.”

Junhui wrinkles his nose at him. “But something bad _could_ have happened. We’re a team, we stick together. I broke that rule, so I’m sorry.”

“Alright, Jun. I wasn’t upset by it, but I think it’s nice that you care so much. We could always do one of those cop drama cliches and handcuff ourselves together so it never happens again."

"There you go again having to make everything into something annoying," Junhui whines in mock irritation. In reality, he can finally relax now that he knows Wonwoo hadn't been offended, back hitting the cool plaster of the hallway wall just as the door across from them opens and Soonyoung pokes his head out with a mischievous smile. They've known each other for years and Junhui still can never tell whether that smile is a natural expression or a sign that something's about to go wrong.   
  
“He’s a good kid. You guys can have a chat while I go call up the big boss."

“Learn anything?” Wonwoo asks, visibly curious. Soonyoung nods. “I think we’ve got a Kim Insu waiting to happen on our hands here. Junnie was right.”

All three of them share a glance. It's clear there are a lot of things they want to ask but Soonyoung is already making a grimacing face and pretending that he’s checking his bare wrist as if it were a watch. “Sorry boys. As much as I hate to part from your beautiful faces, I gotta go report. Let me know if anything interesting happens while I'm gone.”

“Good luck,” Junhui offers dryly, standing to slip inside of the door that Soonyoung’s foot is keeping propped open. Wonwoo follows, shutting the door gently behind them as they both move to sit across from Chan. 

The boy looks up at their entrance, eyes softening slightly. “Hi again,” he says. “It’s kind of comforting to see you, even if my brain is still screaming at me to jump across the table and throttle you.”

“Well then.” Junhui clears his throat. “That’s lovely. But yes, it’s good to see you too. Soonyoung’s not exactly the scary type but I still hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Chan shakes his head. “Oh, not at all, don’t worry. Talking to him actually helped make things a little less confusing. We both think that the voice I hear is the magic that was implanted in me. It makes a lot of sense considering how awful I feel. I’m just sorry that I don’t remember anything else.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Wonwoo interjects softly. “Having met you is already a big help to us. Even if you knew absolutely nothing, we would still be glad to have you safe here.”

Junhui nods along. “I think it’s very impressive how you’re resisting the magic's call even now. We’ve both seen how powerful it is. You have a lot of restraint, but the most important thing here is your safety. If you need me to leave the room at any time, just let me know."

Someone knocks on the door before Chan can reply, surprising all three of them. It’s been at most a minute since Junhui and Wonwoo entered. 

“Come in,” Wonwoo calls. 

It swings open to reveal a nervous-looking Seokmin who is clutching a manila folder in his hands. Jeonghan's head peeks over his shoulder with an expression that's almost terrifyingly furious. Confused, Junhui watches Jeonghan’s expression morph into something softer at the sight of Chan, the oldest of their group pushing past Seokmin to envelop the boy in a big hug. 

“Um,” Junhui says eloquently. Seokmin smiles sheepishly in response. “I found out his identity,” he says, as if that explains Jeonghan’s bizarre reaction. “Total ordinary human," he says, pausing briefly to morph his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "In case you suspected otherwise”

"Good work," Junhui replies, choosing not to comment on that last part.

“He’s my baby cousin,” Jeonghan finally mumbles from where his head is buried in a very confused Chan’s shoulder. “I’ve been so busy I didn’t even know he went missing. Two days ago, apparently. I’m so sorry, Channie.”

Chan laughs awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s.. alright?”

“Two days,” Wonwoo repeats, frowning. “That’s such a small time frame. Maybe that’s why he’s able to resist the call to do its bidding?”

“Either they’re getting better at the procedure, or they’re getting desperate,” Junhui agrees. “But both of those options seem unlikely. We can’t rule out that maybe they wanted Chan to fail for whatever reason. Maybe they hoped that I would kill him in self-defense and they could spin it in their favor. I don’t know. It seems very unreasonable for them to send someone with little to no magical training for an assassination mission. There's something suspicious about this."

Jeonghan nods gravely. “It’s possible. I think no matter what the answer is, we have to confront the fact that there at least has to be a spy among us. It’s too coincidental, the way they knew about the broadcast today and also somehow know Junhui’s home address. We need to be careful.”

“Yikes,” Seokmin mumbles. “That’s not fun.”

“Welcome to the force,” Wonwoo mumbles. “Home of the very bad and no fun. Like Junhui. No fun at all.”

It takes everything he has to not respond in kind, simply kicking Wonwoo’s leg as he glances over the table. Seokmin seems to have found it funny so Junhui can’t muster enough strength to pretend to be mad. “Soonyoung’s talking to the chief now. We’ll wait for orders. But no matter what, Chan, I want you to know that we’re all absolutely dedicated to keeping you safe and finding out how to get rid of the curse.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan chimes in. “I’ll never let anyone hurt my baby cousin again.”

Chan glances up at him warily. “Thanks, guys. I hope I’ll get my memories back. Kind of awkward right now.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Jeonghan coos. “You thought I was uncomfortable to be around when you had your memories too. It doesn't get any better.”

“That’s reassuring,” Wonwoo snorts sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“What can I say?” Jeonghan replies smugly. “I live to brighten others' lives."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the swimming fool joke is "very bad and no fun" but i couldn't resist the temptation   
> thank you for reading and for your support i love you all always and hope you enjoy


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now... for the big reveal !!
> 
> (there is a lot of profanity in this chapter if that bothers you)

The chief actually ends up lightening their workload. 

Junhui doesn’t really mind the change but he also doesn’t exactly understand the decision. No matter how ineffective the 24/7 patrols might have been, he would still rather be doing something than sitting around the station and feeling helpless. Soonyoung conveys that the change is supposedly for increased positive press and efficiency, which Wonwoo expresses his opinion of with a long eye roll. 

Regardless of their personal feelings, orders are orders, so the six of them spend the time they’re not patrolling in the basement of the station excessively babying Chan. For his own safety, they’re keeping him here for the time being. His parents had stopped by to visit and Chan had been unable to recognize them, a disheartening experience for both parties. They had to try, though, to see if somehow his memory could be jogged. 

One day, as they’re sitting there in the furnished, glorified holding cell where Jeonghan has hung some tacky curtains over the bars to make it seem less like a prison, Junhui has a bright idea. 

“Wait,” he says, interrupting a particularly fierce argument between the other five (Soonyoung unfortunately still has administrative duties to attend to) over whether Wonwoo has been cheating at Uno for the past half an hour. 

All eyes turn to him.

“We’re looking for a big group of people,” Junhui says contemplatively. “People who need constant supervision to stop them from hurting themselves or exposing the whole operation. Shouldn’t we be searching in places that could accommodate large groups? Like hotels? Or big abandoned buildings?” 

Mingyu peers at him. “It’s a good idea unless they’ve got a secret underground supervillain base. But more importantly, it is totally not possible for him to have all four draw four cards in his starting hand two games in a row.”

“What can I say?” Wonwoo replies smugly. “I’m just a bag of luck.”

Junhui sighs and Jeonghan takes pity on him, dropping his cards and scooting over to hopefully discuss the more serious matter while the other four continue to argue childishly. The game has long since ended, each round taking maybe 1/4th of the time that they all spend bickering over it afterward. Personally, despite Wonwoo's ridiculous luck with his hands, Junhui suspects that Jeonghan is the one who's really cheating. He decides to keep his mouth shut on that one though, considering how terrifying Jeonghan can be. 

“I think you’ve got a point,” Jeonghan says comfortingly, patting him on the back. "They do too. But the number one rule of adulthood is to never discuss business during a game of Uno, Junhui."

There goes his hope that Jeonghan might help him. 

"I appreciate the words of wisdom," he replies dryly, watching as Chan flicks Seokmin in the forehead and they both start laughing hysterically. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind in the future."

24 hours scanning nearby hotel check-in records, 89 trips to unoccupied properties, and 13 encounters with disgruntled real estate agents later, they’ve found nothing. 

Junhui slams his head back against the concrete wall of Chan’s temporary abode (and their temporary base of operations) in frustration, earning a yelp from Wonwoo beside him. 

“Jun,” the other man scolds sternly. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Offering him the tiniest smile in response, Junhui stares back down at the blindingly white screen of his laptop. “I’m sorry I made all of you waste your time."

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jeonghan soothes. “It was worth checking out. Separating these kids from board games is also a benefit to public health and sanity."

Seokmin nods in agreement. “He's right. It's not like we were doing anything useful yesterday,” he laughs. “And not all of the stuff we found was a waste. At least now I know to never rent a property from that Mr. Han guy.”

Junhui does end up smiling at that, thinking back to the grumpy old man who had nearly thrown his cane at them for “loitering” on the sidewalk outside of the vacant department store they had been examining. 

“It feels good to at least be trying to do something,” Mingyu contributes. “Even if we didn’t end up finding anything.”

Before anyone else can say anything, Soonyoung dramatically slams his way into the cell, panting heavily. 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow delicately. “And the reason for you disturbing the peace is…?

“Something’s going on,” Soonyoung manages, and he actually sounds serious. There's a chance that he didn't just come in here to joke around.  “I was trying to call my friend in the other sector of the city this morning. He wouldn’t pick up and he hasn’t read my messages in a while, so I went over and his place was  _ weird _ . Like, nobody had been there in a week weird.”

Brow furrowing, Junhui sits up and closes his laptop. “And then I tried to get in contact with some other people, all magic-born, and I couldn’t reach any of them. It’s like a whole group of magic users has disappeared too and no one has said anything about it. No missing person reports or anything."

“The spy,” Jeonghan interjects. “It must be. Someone’s deliberately covering them up.”

“But why?” Chan asks from where he’s sitting on his cot. “I don’t understand. I thought they were only taking regular humans?”

“I don’t have an answer,” Soonyoung replies darkly. “But I do know that we have to find out.”

  
  
  
  
  


It’s only two days later that everything goes wrong. 

Junhui’s sitting in the living room of Wonwoo’s apartment, fresh out of the shower, when he gets the text. It’s a video attachment from an unknown number, a familiar face in the thumbnail that makes Junhui’s breath hitch when he clicks on it. 

It’s Chan, tied up and clearly out-of-it, a large bruise staining the left side of his face. He looks up at the camera, disoriented and guilty, and a hand yanks his head roughly to the side by the roots of his hair, an unnecessary show of force. The threat is already loud and clear.

“I’m sorry,” he says in an impossibly small voice. The video ends.   


**Unknown Number (Mark as Spam?)**

i hear you've been looking for us :)

**Unknown Number**

thought i would help you out   
  
**Unknown Number  
  
** you and the other one

**Unknown Number**

wonwoo

**Unknown Number**

both of you come or he dies 

**Unknown Number**

and don’t tell anyone else. 

**Unknown** **Number**

or he dies

**Unknown Number has begun sharing their location with you.**

Junhui’s fingers tremble over the screen, whether from fury or panic he can’t tell. Mingyu was supposed to have been with Chan. He doesn’t understand how this could have happened unless Mingyu is somehow the spy or was incapacitated. But if the second was true, then the station would be in an uproar right now. He shakes out his bangs. Mingyu can't be the spy. Something must have happened.

“Wonwoo!” He yells, the hysteria in his voice summoning the other to his side instantly. The leek between his hands that he had apparently been washing falls forgotten to the floor as Wonwoo notices the contents of his screen. Wordlessly, he takes the phone. 

Eyes shot wide, Wonwoo glances down at him, and then runs back into the kitchen, snatching his keys and one set of the bracelets. “We have to go,” he cries as if Junhui could ever disagree. “We’ll get him out safely and we’ll find out what the hell is happening.” 

“Every bruise on his body is another ass that I’m going to kick,” Junhui snarls in response.

They're off.

Junhui’s pretty sure Wonwoo violates the speed limit several times on their way to what he has now realized is a warehouse, fingers clenching the wheel tightly enough to snap it. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to them when they get there, or even why they want them. He and Wonwoo are just about equally matched in terms of magical ability. Neither of them is a weak link. If they’re looking for someone to hold as a hostage, they already have Chan, and Seokmin would probably work better if they had to have a member of the response team. So why break into Junhui’s apartment and try to kill him specifically? Why go to all this trouble to lure him and Wonwoo to some creepy warehouse?

_ Be safe, _ he thinks, begs, heart clenching. Hopefully, they’ll both get out of this situation unscathed, with Chan at their side and the criminals in handcuffs. Hopefully. 

“Turn left in one hundred feet,” the cruiser’s GPS says robotically.

Junhui takes a deep breath as the car drifts around the corner and comes to a screeching halt in front of the seemingly innocuous warehouse that greets them. It has some legitimate-looking logo plastered on the outside wall that’s just vague enough to be perfect for a fake business. Among the surrounding buildings, it appears completely normal. 

Slamming the car door behind him, Junhui follows Wonwoo to where he’s currently knocking repeatedly at the thick metal of the door before them and jiggling the handle in his impatience. 

It finally opens.

“Welcome,” a familiar voice says calmly. Junhui’s listened to it enough times in the recordings of the broadcast interruption that he would be able to recognize it anywhere. His head swings up, eyes meeting the pair of brown ones that stare back at him impassively. The mask isn’t on, Junhui realizes, immediately trying to memorize each and every aspect of the man’s face in case he needs the info for a sketch later. “You’re punctual men. I appreciate that.”

“What do you want from us?” Junhui barks out through gritted teeth, peering around the stacks of boxes that obscure all but the immediate entrance of the warehouse. It smells of sawdust, very strongly, as if the particles might just clog Junhui’s lungs when he inhales. Looking around, almost every surface is coated with the stuff, a heavy lining even sitting upon the warehouse floor. Bizarre. Almost as if it's trying to cover something up.

The man smiles at them, seeming unconcerned by Junhui’s tone. “Why, I want you both to come on inside so that we can talk business.”

“And why the hell should we do that?” Wonwoo growls, earning a pitying look from the unmasked man as if he’s being particularly foolish. “Down, dog. Don’t forget why you came here.”

Junhui wants to punch him in the face for how demeaning the remark is but controls himself, trailing into the warehouse miserably alongside Wonwoo. It’s a maze of sorts, all big boxes on shelves, probably all empty, nails scattered among the sawdust on the ground and an old forklift sitting abandoned off to the side. A perfect front.

“This way, gentlemen,” the man says pleasantly, leading them around a corner into an open area. Eyes wide, Junhui realizes that this is what they had been looking for the other day, noticing the bedrolls that sloppily litter the ground and the idling groups of people. No wonder they hadn’t found anything. Whoever this man is, he must have already owned this warehouse.

Some of the residents appear more aware than others, talking and chatting like friends. Some are asleep, some are sitting with vacant expressions, and some are watching the three of them with curiosity. Here, even with the overpowering odor of the sawdust, it smells foul, and not foul like the magic had. 

It smells foul like something is rotting, decaying away. 

It smells like death. 

Junhui doesn’t have time to dwell on it because Wonwoo is grabbing his arm and tugging him toward what Junhui realizes is Chan, slumped in a chair and tied up with magic restraining bonds. Unlike the bracelets in Junhui’s jacket pocket, these bonds render one unable to generate even the slightest spark of magic. It’s why they couldn’t have brought them on patrols. If one of the victims were to activate their powers and then be restrained with these, their magic would be snuffed out from the core and they would die. They even restrict wards. 

“Chan!” Wonwoo whispers, reaching out a tentative hand for his face. 

The man clicks his tongue. “Careful,” he says. “He’s not in control right now. Don’t aggravate him.” 

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Right now, he’s little more than a puppet. It’s why I sent him to you, don’t you see? An hour ago, I took control back and walked his body right back here. If you try anything funny, all it takes is a single thought for me to set off his magic and doom him to death.”

Both of them stand there frozen, sharing a frightened glance. So they were right. Chan had never been meant to kill Junhui back in his apartment. “Then… what do you want from us? In exchange for his freedom?”

“Let me restrain you. Magic binding ropes. I promise I'll let him go afterward.”

“And why would we ever trust you?”

“What choice do you have?” The man asks, and Wonwoo deflates. Junhui presses his lips together, nodding. “Restrain us then. I’m not in a position to be making threats, but if you’re lying to us, this will not end well for you.”

The man shrugs at them callously, calling out for some of the idling people to come over with more magic restraining bonds. Junhui grimaces, staring up at the warehouse ceiling as a random woman finishes tying his wrists behind his back with the painful rope. She continues to tie his ankles together, rendering him incapable of any movement more sophisticated than an embarrassing waddle.

He had hoped that the man would only be worried about their magical skill and would neglect to physically restrain them, but luck isn’t on his side. So much for the martial arts escape plan that Junhui had been developing. 

“Very well,” the man says cheerfully, satisfied that they’re both adequately bound. “Release the boy outside. I’ve relinquished control of him. I’m a man of my word, after all.”

If Junhui were a stupider man, he would let out a snarky remark about how he very much is not considering all the lies he had spewed on television the other day. He keeps his mouth shut though, once more making eye contact with Wonwoo.  _ It’s going to be okay _ , he tries to convey. The other’s eyebrow twitches imperceptibly in response, expression ever so slightly anxious. 

The man’s attendants carry an unconscious Chan off toward the entrance that they had come in. Junhui lets out an internal sigh of relief. At least Chan will be alright, for now. The kid doesn’t deserve to be involved in any of this. 

That’s the problem, though. Junhui doesn’t know how many of the people in here are willing participants and how many are cases like Chan, whose memories have somehow been altered or wiped. If they try to cause a commotion, they’ll end up risking innocent lives. 

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the man says, not unkindly. Junhui inclines his head ever so slightly, scanning the room while it’s pointed down. The smell is really starting to bother him. “Now I’m sure you’re curious as to why I brought you here.”

Wonwoo grunts at him. The man clears his throat, clearly having expected a more grandiose response. “Yes, well, why don’t you follow me then?”

Frowning, Junhui does as he’s told, feeling dozens of pairs of eyes watching them as they waddle after the man through another, smaller corridor of boxes into a tiny room.

If his hands weren’t bound, Junhui thinks they might have flown up to cover his mouth in horror. Wonwoo retches beside him. This is definitely where the smell is coming from, there’s no doubt about it. 

In the center of the room, there are two white folding tables, positioned next to each other like a child’s mockery of a hospital room. There’s a young boy atop on the left table, seeming to be sleeping soundly. That, however, isn’t the horrifying part.

Lining the walls, there are bodies in various states of decay, piled atop each other. Some of them have to be weeks old, Junhui guesses, while the ones nearer to the top are fresher. 

“What the fuck?”

The man coughs politely. “I do apologize for the mess. We don’t have anywhere else to store the bodies, you see.”

Junhui’s eyes focus in on one thing in particular, a little charm around one of the dead girls’ wrists. He recognizes the symbol. It’s a sunblock ward, very popular among magic stores during the summer. His gut twists and he suddenly remembers what Soonyoung had told them about the unreported disappearances of magic users. 

“So this is… some sort of transfer,” he manages to spit out, earning an approving nod from the man. Wonwoo furrows his brow, glancing at him questioningly. “Right on. I siphon the power from a magic-born individual and place it inside the human. When magic has nothing left to draw from, it eventually turns to the life force, which is why they all, unfortunately, die in the process. It’s also why all the people out there can’t stop casting without dying. Magic doesn’t respond well to being given a new master. It won’t listen to a new master. It will only respond to the first cast because of the traces of its true master’s life force that remain within it. As soon as it is cut off, it realizes what has happened and destroys the new vessel in vengeance.”

Junhui’s nails dig into his palm behind his back. He had never thought about it like that, but it makes sense. Everyone’s magic is unique to them in strength and manifestation, though most magic users can all do the same things, just with varying levels of success. It makes sense for magic to become a vengeful entity when left alone in the world without the person who completes it. 

“And why would you  _ ever _ think that what you’re doing right now is morally right?” Wonwoo asks through gritted teeth, angry tears welling in the bottom of his eyes. “You’ve killed so many innocent people and doomed so many more. How many of the people out there actually know what you’ve done to them? How many of them  _ wanted  _ to become a one-use weapon? How many of them did you kidnap and then erase their memories?”

The man frowns, walking over to the table where the boy is sleeping. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. This much is necessary to save the world. I don’t care how unethical my methods are if they result in a breakthrough that allows everyone to share magic. I don’t care if I need to use people or hurt people so that the future generations can prosper. I’m doing all of this for the sake of humanity, Jeon Wonwoo. Not for the sake of the individuals in this warehouse.”

“How?” Junhui asks hoarsely, knowing from the pure insanity of that rant that the man can’t be reasoned with over his motives. If they’re going to die, he at least wants to know the answers to his remaining questions. “How are you even doing it? Magic transfer and memory erasure are both spells that should have been lost to time in the ages of the dark arts.”

The man nods. “Indeed. Luckily, I happened to come into possession of an ancient spell book with many of the forbidden techniques inside.”

"What you did to Chan was different," he says. "Why?"

The man smiles. "I needed a puppet in case you got too close to the truth. Both of you are dangerous to my operation, so it was about time to reel you in. I simply shared a little bit of my own magic with him during the transfer process. When I need to, I can use it to manipulate him."

So it is possible to only share a little bit of magic and have both parties stay alive. Then what the hell has the man been killing so many people for?

Wonwoo's eyes reflect his own thoughts back at him, lip curling back in disgust. 

“I have another question,” Junhui begins, swallowing down his hatred and watching the man carefully for a reaction. “Does the city chief of police happen to be your father?”

Both Wonwoo and the man appear shocked. 

“Very good!” The man claps with a thin smile, insincere. “It’s a shame that a detective as good as you is going to die like this. Do tell me how you figured it out.”

Junhui laughs humorlessly. “It was just a guess, but now you've confirmed it. Who else would have been able to give you all the broadcast details, get you access to the station, and be in possession of sensitive employee information like my address. He also pointlessly shortened our patrols, presumably so we would be less equipped to discover you. The covering up of the magic users’ disappearances gave it away too. I knew whoever the spy was, they had to have some serious influence.”

Wonwoo is looking at him with something that might be admiration, a gaze that Junhui would revel in if not for the current situation. “So the whole press release was just an excuse to give you a platform and make us look like a bunch of fools," Wonwoo realizes.  
  
“Of course,” the man responds. “But it's not hard to make you look like a bunch of fools when you are a bunch of fools."

"Bastard," Wonwoo spits. "Psycho bastard."

The man sighs. “As much of a pleasure as it is to finally enlighten you, gentlemen, we have wasted quite a bit of time idling here. I’d like to get on with things. I'm a busy man.”

“Fucker,” Wonwoo mutters, earning a sharp gaze from Junhui. They can’t afford to keep provoking him. If the man’s attendants had really released an unconscious Chan outside, he could be the key to solving the case. His memories hadn’t been erased a second time. Whether he wakes up in time to save the two of them or not, he’ll know this place. He’ll be able to bring the others here. The man has made a fatal mistake. If they can just stall for time, it’s possible-

“You seem to be very upset, Mr. Jeon. I think we'll have Junhui go first to help calm you down. Attendants!"  


Two men rush into the room and grab Wonwoo by the arms, holding him firmly back as the man turns back to Junhui. “Now, Junhui, do cooperate and get on the table. You wouldn’t want Wonwoo to get hurt, would you?”

“Junhui!” Wonwoo screams. “Jun, fuck, don’t! I don’t care what happens! You can’t die! I’ll never forgive you!”

His cries echo in Junhui’s ears, impossibly loud. Junhui doesn't want to die, but in a way he’s glad. For a moment, Junhui had feared that talking back would get the other man killed, and while Junhui’s sure that the man has plans to kill Wonwoo later, by sacrificing himself now, Junhui can at least buy him time. Wonwoo will have a chance.

He steps forward.

_ Sorry, Wonwoo, _ he thinks.  _ If I were you, I would never forgive me either. But I’m selfish. Terribly, horribly selfish. I wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you get hurt in front of me, so instead I’m subjecting you to that pain.  _

“Jun, Junnie, please! What about the Chinese place on 23rd that you wanted to try so badly? Junnie, you have to run now! Get out of here! Don’t worry about me!”

Junhui climbs up onto the table, lying down beside the sleeping boy. His heart is pounding in his chest. He’s never heard Wonwoo yell before, let alone this ferociously. He wants to jump from the table and run to him, to press a disgusting, lukewarm convenience store sandwich into his hands and see him brighten up the way he had many nights in the cruiser. He wants to tell him that he couldn’t bear to eat the last of the jellies from the first pack that Wonwoo had ever bought him, that it’s tucked safely away in his prized possessions drawer. He wants to tell him that Wonwoo’s shower really does have good water pressure, way better than the one at his apartment. He wants to tell him to take care of the rest of the team, to live on for them both. He wants to tell him thank you. 

_ For the memories, for the smiles and the laughs, for being the best partner I’ve ever worked with. Thank you, Wonwoo. _

Wonwoo’s scream shatters the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHAHA what can i say i love my cliffhangers 
> 
> also i am so sorry that the villain name is just "the man" but like coming up with two original names was already hard enough for my ant brain 
> 
> for those of you who are worried - SPOILER ALERT - there is a happy ending : ) 
> 
> thank you for all your support and for continuing to read <3 carats are the best and the sweetest


	7. Chapter Seven

Junhui had been prepared to die. 

Well, he’d been as prepared as anyone could be. No one is truly ready for death, but as Junhui had laid there on the freezing plastic of the folding table, he'd felt almost peaceful.

He had NOT been prepared for Soonyoung to break through the ceiling and kick the man to the floor.

Everything from that point on is a blur.

Junhui vaguely remembers rolling off the table and watching Wonwoo headbutt the two men who had been holding him unconscious. It had given him a concussion, but bound as they had been, there wasn’t really another choice. They had to make sure that all of the man’s victims were rendered unable to activate their magic as soon as possible for their own safety. 

He remembers stumbling out into the main area of the warehouse and seeing all the others already knocked out on the floor, slumbering peacefully under the sleeping powder that Jeonghan had doused them with. He remembers a warm pair of arms around him, comforting, remembers burying his head in somebody’s shirt and sobbing, remembers hearing Soonyoung’s triumphant shout of victory as he had subdued the evidently not-all-that-powerful man. 

They had taken Wonwoo straight to the hospital and left Junhui sitting absently in the back of one of the cruisers as more and more police cars had pulled up to help temporarily detain the victims and remove the corpses from the building. In a soft voice, Seokmin had ended up telling him that it was actually Mingyu who ended up being the one to save them.

He had followed Chan during his trance and sat in waiting outside the building, unable to stop Junhui and Wonwoo from entering but able to call in the reinforcements they had needed. Junhui feels almost guilty for the moment earlier when he had considered Mingyu being the spy.

The chief of police had been tied up in his office by Soonyoung before he had even received the call from Mingyu. Junhui feels almost proud that his friend had been able to figure it out even without the clues that the man in the warehouse had given him and Wonwoo. 

Now, three days later, the father and son are both being securely held in the darkest corner of the main station, denied bail and forced to wait for a trial date to be set. Junhui has had to give countless statements, rushing around between talking to the victims and helping the station deal with the newfound frenzy of activity. 

Wonwoo, the lucky bastard, has been spared from the chaos by resting in the hospital. Junhui hasn’t visited him yet. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t have the time, but really he’s just scared. Scared of seeing Wonwoo injured, scared that the other man will be upset with him, scared of the feelings that he can’t quite bury beneath the work that he busies himself with. The longer he puts it off, the worse it gets, but Junhui can't afford to be miserable.

On other fronts, after all, they’ve made progress. Chan has begun to show signs of regaining his memories, all of the willing victims had been escorted to the graves of the fallen magic users to attempt to make peace, doctors all over the city are close to finding a way to remove the harmful magic without killing them, and Soonyoung has been promoted to the temporary city-wide police chief. They've even managed to destroy the forbidden book that the man in the warehouse had been learning his spells from.

Junhui should be happy, but as he sits here on the couch in Wonwoo’s empty apartment, he can only feel hollow. So many deaths, so much pain, and he had come out unscathed. _Survivor's guilt_ , he tries to convince himself, staring vacantly at the blank screen of the television. 

Behind him, the door slowly creaks open, startling him into jumping up a few inches. He warily glances back to see a familiar pair of eyes peering at him from the entrance to the apartment. 

Junhui hadn’t expected to see him again so soon and certainly hasn’t prepared enough to be ready for it. 

“Junnie,” Wonwoo murmurs, a pouty reproach. “You should have come to visit me. I was lonely.”

Managing a shaky inhale, Junhui gives him a tiny smile. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

Clearly sensing that something is wrong, Wonwoo softly pads in and flops down on the cushion beside him, pretending to be indifferent even as he closely observes him. “It was so boring, Jun,” he whines. “I wasn’t allowed to do anything and the nurses wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“Sorry,” Junhui whispers again, and no matter how far he turns his face away from Wonwoo’s to hide the welling tears, the choke in his voice gives him away anyway. For a moment, it’s silent, and Junhui wants to just dissolve into the coach and disappear. 

Then Wonwoo is hugging him, warm and reassuring, laughing lowly against Junhui’s neck. Junhui tries to blink back his tears but they fall regardless, landing among Wonwoo’s dark hair and glittering. Very slowly, he lifts his heavy arms to return the embrace. 

“I was so scared,” Wonwoo mumbles soberingly. “If you had died…”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Junhui knows. 

“Dummy,” Junhui manages to choke back. “You’re the one who ended up getting hurt. I don’t even have a scratch on my body.”

“Oh, please,” Wonwoo replies with a snort. “I'm fine. I’ve had way worse.”

“I hate you,” Junhui sniffles, earning another laugh from Wonwoo, who seems unbothered as he buries his nose in Junhui’s neck. “No you don’t. I can hear your heartbeat right now, you know.”

“Maybe it’s just naturally that high,” Junhui splutters, feeling the warmth creep up his cheeks as Wonwoo makes no moves to draw back despite his observation. The other hums and Junhui can feel the vibration against his collarbone. 

“I don’t mind,” Wonwoo replies finally. “But really, thanks for worrying about me, Junhui.”

“How could I not?” Junhui replies, so soft it’s almost lost to the whirring of the fan. At that, Wonwoo finally does pull away from him, gently removing Junhui’s arms from his back. “I was worried about you too. Still am. Whatever you need to let out, no matter how silly you might think it is, I’m here for you. We’re partners.”

“Partners?” Junhui laughs miserably, though his heart is still pounding at the compassion in the other man’s statement. “Are you not going back to your station? What happened to working from home most of the time?”

“We’re partners,” Wonwoo replies firmly, holding his gaze until Junhui can’t help but look away, ashamed at the red that his cheeks are surely sporting. “Now and forever.”

Laughing again to hide his nervousness, Junhui swats lightly at him, tears long forgotten. “That sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal.”

Wonwoo lifts a hand to his chin and strokes it as if he’s pretending to consider it. “Not yet,” he replies finally, with a small grin. “We haven’t even been on a date.”

“Yet?” Junhui asks incredulously, pupils expanding. 

“We still have to try that Chinese place on 23rd,” Wonwoo replies teasingly, and there’s so much genuine care in the lines of his smile that for a moment, Junhui feels completely safe, completely at peace. 

“Okay,” he mumbles, unable to hide the upward curl of his lips. “I guess I wouldn’t mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you

**Author's Note:**

> i do apologize for subjecting you to my f-tier worldbuilding


End file.
